BY DIFFICULTIES. 171

I, in my mind, was pondering o’er

The miseries that beset the preacher ;
The persecutions which he bore—

(The scoff and scorn of every creature ;)
His heated brain—his frame worn down,
Emaciated and dyspeptic,—

The hardened bigot’s iron frown ;

The jeers and satire of the sceptic—
One mocking revelation’s page—

The other ridiculing reason ; .
And then the storms we must engage,
And all th’ imclemencies of season..:

In this desponding, gloomy mood,

I rode perhaps a mile or two—

When lo! beside the way there stood

A little girl, with eyes of blue,

Light hair, and cheeks as red as cherries ;
And through the briars, with much ado,
She wrought her way to pick the berries.
Quoth I, “ My little girl, it seems

To me, you buy your berries dear;

For down your hand the red blood streams,
And down your cheek there rolls a tear.”
“‘O, yes,” said she, “‘ but then, you know,
There will be briars where berries grow.”